bar the way, if a man is able to serve the state, he is not hindered by the obscurity of his condition. The freedom which we enjoy in our government extends also to our ordinary life. There, far from exercising a jealous surveillance over each other, we do not feel called upon to be angry with our neighbor for doing what he likes, or even to indulge in those injurious looks which cannot fail to be offensive, although they inflict no positive penalty. But all this ease in our private relations does not make us lawless as citizens. Against this fear is our chief safeguard, teaching us to obey the magistrates and the laws, particularly such as regard the protection of the injured, whether they are actually on the statute book, or belong to that code which, although unwritten, yet cannot be broken without acknowledged disgrace.
Pericles then praised Athenian democracy for nurturing cultural excellence and personal responsibility, and for celebrating open public debate where each man could have his say:
We cultivate refinement without extravagance and knowledge without effeminacy; wealth we employ more for use than for show, and place the real disgrace of poverty not in owning to the fact but in declining the struggle against it. Our public men have, besides politics, their private affairs to attend to, and our ordinary citizens, though occupied with the pursuits of industry, are still fair judges of public matters; for, unlike any other nation, regarding him who takes no part in these duties not as unambitious but as useless, we Athenians are able to judge at all events if we cannot originate, and, instead of looking on discussion as a stumbling-block in the way of action, we think it an indispensable preliminary to any wise action at all.
Athens presented a “singular spectacle of daring and deliberation” in which courageous men “are never tempted to shrink from danger.” Moreover, said Pericles, “In generosity we are equally singular, acquiring our friends by conferring, not by receiving, favors. . . . And it is only the Athenians, who, fearless of consequences, confer their benefits not from calculations of expediency, but in the confidence of liberality.”
Pericles declared Athens to be “the school of Greece,” for no other people were “equal to so many emergencies, and graced by so happy a versatility, as the Athenian.” Indeed, the greatness of democratic Athens needed no poet like Homer to glorify it for future generations, as it was proved in deeds – and it justified the Athenians in extending their influence widely:
For Athens alone of her contemporaries is found when tested to be greater than her reputation, and alone gives no occasion to her assailants to blush at the antagonist by whom they have been worsted, or to her subjects to question her title by merit to rule. Rather, the admiration of the present and succeeding ages will be ours, since we have not left our power without witness, but have shown it by mighty proofs; and far from needing a Homer for our panegyrist, or other of his craft whose verses might charm for the moment only for the impression which they gave to melt at the touch of fact, we have forced every sea and land to be the highway of our daring, and everywhere, whether for evil or for good, have left imperishable monuments behind us.
Having extolled the unique character of Athens in detail, Pericles concluded that the Athenian “stake in the struggle is not the same as theirs who have no such blessings to lose,” and that the fallen heroes he was honoring were “men whose fame, unlike that of most Greeks, will be found to be only commensurate with their deserts.”2828
Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War 2.35–46.
Pericles’ portrait of Athens was obviously idealized, like the beautiful figures on the Parthenon. The citizens of Athens could not all have been either so free of jealousy and anger or so law-abiding; and like other societies of the time, they accepted slavery and the disenfranchisement of women as proper and just. But the idealization was founded on a truth: the political liberty born under Cleisthenes and nurtured under Ephialtes – and Pericles himself – had created unprecedented opportunities for achievement, including the artistic excellence so clearly displayed in the gorgeous monuments behind Pericles as he spoke. Surely, the old statesman and general might be forgiven for assuming that even greater feats lay ahead for Athens as he prepared for the next year’s military campaign.
Athens: 429 BC
A plague had arrived in Athens along with the warm spring weather of 430 BC. Generally accompanied by a violent cough, skin blisters and raging fever, it brought death in about a week. It was wildly infectious, cutting down entire families who were crowded into the city while the Spartans controlled growing portions of the countryside. The death toll was in the thousands; there were so many victims that when a pyre was lit to cremate one individual, people would creep out of the shadows with more bodies, throw them on the fire and run away.
Weakened by the disease, Athens was less successful in the second year of its war. Sparta had invaded Attica again. Pericles continued emphasizing the navy and pointed to the great strengths that Athens still possessed, but the people were demoralized. Pericles lost his generalship and was fined for fraud.
He regained his position the following year, but was now suffering from a slower but still deadly strain of the plague himself. Two of his sons had already died. When the end was near, in the autumn of 429 BC, Aspasia put a protective charm around his neck, and he observed with amusement that he must be very sick indeed to put up with such a superstition. His chamber was crowded with government officials, generals and friends, who reminisced about his great accomplishments and military victories. Pericles hushed them, saying that those things were not true victory. His life’s work had been to govern by persuasion rather than force, and to honor what Athens had achieved as a democracy rather than a dictatorship. “My real triumph,” he said, “was that no Athenian wore mourning because of me.”2929 They were reported to be his final words.
Plutarch, Pericles 38.
After Pericles
The successors of Pericles, less skillful and less dedicated to democratic principles, exploited the democratic process to enhance their own power. The Peloponnesian War dragged on for many more years, punctuated by an uneasy truce, but the tide was turning against the Athenians – especially after a calamitous attempt to conquer Sicily in 415 BC severely debilitated the city’s capacity to fight. Many allies revolted after a disastrous naval battle at Aegospotami. The Spartans besieged Athens, finally breaching the city walls in 404 BC.
Sparta imposed a new governing authority of thirty conservative aristocrats, the sort of men who had been so resistant to the democratic reforms of Ephialtes and Pericles in the 460s. The Athenians called this group “tyrants,” and eventually a popular uprising restored the democratic system, but it was not long-lived. As the fourth century unfolded, new powers emerged to challenge the Greeks – first Philip of Macedon and then his son Alexander the Great, who dominated the Greek world and beyond during his brief life (356–323 BC). Farther afield, a city on the Italian peninsula was consolidating power and extending its sway. Rome would conquer Greece in 146 BC, and Athens would begin its long history of being a noted cultural center but not a political power.
There is no evidence that Pericles ever met the outstandingly curious – and ugly – young man who was born in Athens right around the time that Aeschylus introduced The Persians, but there are strong indications that Aspasia may have. Socrates was not a quiet, reflective sort of philosopher but rather a self-described “gadfly” who constantly asked impertinent and inconvenient questions in his pursuit of the truth.3030 Many people undoubtedly found him irritating, but Aspasia enjoyed the companionship of free spirits. Socrates was rumored to be a visitor to her house, some said for conversation, others said for different reasons.
Plato, Apology.
Shortly after the Spartan-imposed tyrants had been expelled from Athens, the city’s democratic government sentenced Socrates to death on charges
